Greif is a difficult thing to place. With it come a myriad of emotions, from sadness, to denial, to anger, and finally to acceptance. Walnut Grove as a community had gone through all these and more since the tragic fire that burned through the Blind School. After the funeral, most seemed to have come through their grief and were ready to continue with their lives.

For Albert, his grief was only just beginning. Anger and denial had passed, leaving only a cold emptiness of guilt and regret. In the days after the funeral he seemed to grow even more withdrawn. None of his family could figure it out. In truth most of them were too focused on Mary and her little family to notice much of what was going on. Mary's ankle had since healed and she hardly let her baby out of arm's reach, fretting over his persistent cough.

Albert was not the only one who seemed to have retreated from the world. Hester Sue, too, was still quiet and distant with all who came to see her. According to Doctor Baker her burns were healing very well...though she would never look the same. Already thick scar tissue was building on her face, shoulders, and back. Moist bandages were changed once a day and the scars were stretched to keep them from impeding motion. It was painful, but the physical pain did not trouble her so much as the mental and emotional pain did. For privacy and to free up space in the office she was given a room upstairs.

Callers dropped by often and in great variety. Everyone from the Wilders, to Mrs. Foster, to Reverend Alden paid her visits on a daily basis. Even Harriet Oleson- perhaps driven by guilt at how she had initially treated Hester Sue upon finding out her race -came by with a catalog and offered to buy any wig for Hester Sue that wanted until her hair grew back. The convalescing woman knew Harriet meant well, but held her head high and said she didn't want any wig. She said 'no, thank you' to Harriet's offer multiple times until Nels finally ushered his wife outside.

Hester Sue's most frequent visitors were the Ingalls and the Garveys. Whoever came by were saddened at what they saw. Often did the woman keep her eyes turned away and her voice low. According to Doctor Baker Hester Sue's body was healing well, but even he wondered if anything could be done for her wounded spirit.

Three weeks after the fire Hester Sue was just finishing up a session of lifting her left arm as high as the scars would allow it to go. She could only lift it to a thirty degree angle before the pain made her wince.

Doctor Baker nodded, carefully holding an unburned part of her forearm to help her stretch. "I know it hurts. Just a bit higher, Hester Sue..."

Hester Sue took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed her muscles to lift her arm higher. Thirty-five degrees...forty..."

A slight smile of encouragement rose on the doctor's face. "Good...that's good, Hester Sue. Right there. Just hold your arm there for a minute."

Hester Sue nodded, though the ache in her healing skin made tears come to her eyes. She gritted her teeth and held the stretch.

"All right, Hester Sue. That's fine," said Doctor Baker gently. "You can put your arm down now."

Hester Sue lowered her arm with a shuddering sigh. After a time her eyes finally opened.

Doctor Baker smiled a bit and closing his bag. "That's good, Hester Sue. You're going very well. Keep up with your exercises, now. I'll come by again tomorrow." He rose to his feet and headed for the door. When he had gone outside, he stepped back pleasantly. "Charles! Good to see you."

Charles shifted about on his feet, hands in his pockets, and gave a slight smile and nod. "Hey, Doc. I, uh, came to see Hester Sue. How's she doing?" he asked quietly.

The Doctor sighed and glanced at the door before shaking his head. "She's healing...it's this depression she's fallen into. I can understand. What she went through was terrible. But for her sake, she needs to get out of it...soon. I'm afraid if it goes on too much longer, she might never come back."

Charles frowned and sighed at the grim news. "She knows she has friends...friends that love her. Isn't there anything we can do?"

The doctor shrugged, tired. "I wish I knew. The only thing I can recommend is to keep coming by. What she needs is fresh air. She'd been sitting in that room for far too long. But no matter how often I tell her this, it's as if she's in another world."

Charles bit his lip, worried for his friend. "Well, Thanksgiving's coming up. The Reverend was talking about having a town dinner outside after services, long as the weather holds."

Doctor Baker tried to smile at the suggestion. "I'd like for her to be outside before that...but that's a fine idea. I only hope she'd be willing."

Charles forced a smile. "Ah, you know Hester Sue. She loves people. I'm sure she'd want to come." A pause. "Can I see her for a minute and ask?"

"Fine," nodded the doctor. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything." He stepped aside to let Charles go to the door and knock.

Within her room, staring sadly at her changed complexion, Hester Sue flinched at the sound of the knock and quickly turned away, wiping her tears. She didn't particularly want to see anyone, but knew her visitors meant well. She put on a brave face for them. "Who is it?" she asked, clearing her throat.

"It's Charles Ingalls," answered the man at the door.

Hester Sue forced a smile and hastened to open it. "Come in, Charles."

Charles smiled, playing with the hat in his hands. "Hi. How are you doing?"

Hester Sue absently nodded. "I'm all right, Charles. How are you?"

Charles shrugged. "Fine, thanks."

"Won't you sit down?" Hester Sue indicated a chair near her bed.

Charles nodded and took a seat.

"How are Caroline and the children?" asked Hester Sue as she sat on her bed.

"Oh, they're fine."

"And Mary...and the baby? How are they?"

"Well, Mary's up and around. The baby's still coughing, but Doc says he'll get over it in a few days."

Hester Sue nodded, somewhat distant. "I'm glad." Silence hung over them for a long while.

Charles played with his hat. "You know, we've been missing you at church. You sure you won't change your mind about coming?"

Sadly the woman shook her head. "Charles, you know I would if I felt I could...but...I just don't feel ready. Not yet."

Charles' shoulders fell. He moistened his lips to make a proposition. "You know, Thanksgiving is coming up in a couple of weeks. The Reverend and I were talking about having a dinner for the whole town after services."

A faint, halfhearted smile rose on Hester Sue's face for a bare moment. Another picnic? No. It's too soon. It hasn't even been a month since- She frowned. Thinking of that day was usually avoided, but the mention of eating outdoors made a memory stir within her...

The fire at the Blind School had started in the basement. Someone had mentioned finding a pipe down there...and then Hester Sue remembered seeing two boys, Albert Ingalls and Clay Thompson, in the basement hours before. A disturbed frown spread across her face.

Charles frowned in return. "What's wrong?"

Hester Sue sighed and shook her head. "I don't know, Charles...but you mentioned having dinner outside...it reminded me of the picnic the day of the fire."

Charles' face fell. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you."

"It's not that. I just remembered something about that day...someone said that the fire began in the basement...with a pipe?" she questioned.

"Yeah," said Charles, confused as to where this conversation was headed.

"Well, I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but...I found Clay Thompson and Albert in the basement that afternoon. They were both coughing, but I didn't think anything of it." Hester Sue's eyes held a haunted look.

Oh, no...Charles leaned back and felt the blood drain from his face. "What?" Pieces of the puzzle over the unexpected fire and Albert's withdrawal from life in general began coming together, forming a picture the farmer didn't want to see. "You're sure it was Albert?"

Hester Sue nodded. "Now, I know he'd never do something like that deliberately, but-" her voice broke. "Charles, I'm sorry."

Charles closed his eyes and blew out a hard breath. "No...no, it's not your fault. I wondered why Albert's been acting strange lately." His gaze returned to Hester Sue. "Look, I'll ask him about it, all right?"

Hester Sue nodded. "The truth needs to come out."

As Charles said his goodbye and rose to leave, he thought that with a truth like that, it might have been better to not know at all.

Not a bite yet. Albert bobbed his willow pole up and down, jiggling the worm on the end to attract whatever fish called this brook home.

The boy had gone fishing a lot lately. After doing whatever was needed at home and school, he slunk off on his own with pole and bait bucket in hand. The brook was peaceful and quiet. It helped him clear his head. When he was fishing, he didn't have to think of anything else. It didn't matter that he hadn't been catching more than one or two fish per trip. It didn't matter that his worries were at home waiting for him. Albert would take any respite he could get.

The cork strung onto the line suddenly plunked into the water. A rainbow trout had gone for the worm.

Albert was so distracted he didn't even notice until the fish nearly pulled the pole from his hands.

It was a typical scene in the Ingalls house. Laura was in the barn, Carrie was setting the table for supper, Baby Grace was set up in her high chair with a biscuit to chew, and Mary was in the downstairs bedroom. Adam was outside, as he had volunteered to unhitch the team.

"Caroline?" called Charles as he came in the door.

Caroline poked her head out from the lean-to kitchen, spoon in hand and a wonderful smell emanating from the bubbling pot on the stove. "Hello, Charles. Supper'll be ready in about ten minutes."

Charles' eyes darted around the little house, troubled. "Have you seen Albert anywhere around here?"

Caroline shrugged, crumbling herbs into the pot. "Well, he finished his chores early, so he said he was going fishing." She paused, frowning. "He should have been back by now."

Charles nodded. "All right. There's something I need to talk to him about-"

"Adam! Adam!" cried Mary suddenly, tears in her voice.

Quickly Charles darted into the bedroom. Mary sat on the large bed, her baby fussing in her arms with a nasty cough. The infant's breaths were raspy and labored. "Mary, what happened?"

"Pa, something's wrong. He won't eat. He can hardly breathe, and he has a fever," Mary choked.

No...Charles gently took his grandson into his arms and laid the back of his hand on the baby's forehead. His heart sank at how warm it was. "Take it easy. We'll get him to the doc, all right?"

In the time it took to hitch the team back up and gather Mary, Adam, and the baby and put them in the wagon, the mood in the house had gone from contentment to utter and complete panic.

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A/N: So sorry this has been stagnant for so long! I promise, the end is coming...I just don't know when. :(